More Happy Endings

Cotillions, ball gowns, chandeliers, jewelry-- the stuff of life, at

least, the stuff of my life before Darien entered it. How could I have

known that the simple incident of two people crashing into each other

in more ways than one) could have results far beyond mutual feelings

of great irritation and a bruised head?



I was a 'good child,' according to my parents. I did what was expected

of any 15-year-old girl- I attended Madame Finch's School for Young

Ladies and did fairly well, not receiving top marks, but ones that

couldn't be complained about anyhow.

This thrilled my parents; you see, they were of the very popular

belief, opposed by few like Madame Finch, that ladies must be

educated, but only enough to be useful to their husbands; everyone knew

that a 'brainy' girl would simply never catch a husband. So, in that

respect, I was perfect. I was very skilled at all the important aspects

of a girl's life- dancing, singing, playing the organ, and the most

essential, etiquette.



So then why was I so miserable? The answer should have been obvious

to all around me, but it wasn't. Almost everyone turned a blind eye

and deaf ear to my pleas to go hunting with Richard, Theo and the rest

of the boys; my begging to go fishing on the Thames, and to bet on the

monthly horse races were not ignored, however. They were greeted by

many a shocked exclamation or occasionally a swoon on the part of my

mother.

Sensible as I was, I never really tried to rebel or go out and do what

I wanted- I knew far too well that flippancy and disobedience were

tolerated about as much as farm animals within our peerless monstrosity

of a mansion. So, I would beg, be refused, and quietly obey without so

much as a "But, Mother...".



Thus, I plodded along, always feeling that something was missing in

my life, something big, but not being very aware of just what that

something was. I suppose I have Darien to thank for helping me find it,

although at first I was hard-pressed to find anything at all to be

grateful for, where he was concerned.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I ran inside the house infuriated by Theo's taunting- was it my fault

I was a "young lady" and couldn't go out and wade in the lake with him

and the others? I had certainly no choice in the matter; if I had, he

could be sure I would have been a boy, and one much manlier and stronger

than him at that.

Now, though, I was hoping against hope that no one had seen me give him

that resounding slap across the face; he had undoubtedly deserved it, but

this excuse would probably not go over very well with Father. I turned

back for one more look at the imprint my hand had made on his face.

Satisfied by his stunned countenance, I spun around once again to dash

into my room and promptly collided with a very hard torso.

Tears sprung to my eyes as I staggered backwards and hit the ground, for

while my three petticoats, pantalets, and lace-bedecked gown were very

attractive and elaborate, they were also entirely incapable of protecting

my rear end from the many falls and trips that resulted from my inborn

gaucherie. Through a haze of pain, I glanced up at my attacker, who

looked as if he were about nineteen years old. He was gazing at me

with a look of unrepentant amusement on his face. Then, sobering,

he assisted me to rise.

"I'm deeply sorry, I hope you aren't hurt," he said. I was uncertain of

what he was thinking, but wished I knew, for there was an undertone

of humor in his apology. I studied his features as nonchalantly as

possible, noting his strikingly handsome appearance, the sort of face

one couldn't easily forget- thick ebony black hair, of which a few

strands fell casually over his forehead and blue eyes, or maybe

they were green, I couldn't quite tell.

"I am not, fortunately. Thank you, sir, I appreciate your apology," I

said uncertainly, knowing how artificial my words must sound.

"No, I think you misunderstand me. I meant that I am deeply sorry

girls' seminaries seem to spend more time teaching how to attract men

than how to protect said men from being run over."

I felt my face grow very hot, and, shaking, I said, "With all due respect,

sir, it takes two people to cause a collision like the one we just had,

so I think it highly improbable that I am the sole culprit." Who did he

think he was anyway, waltzing in here and talking to me like that? At

that moment, I was strongly inclined to repeat my previous behavior with

Theo but for some reason, I felt that this time, with this opponent, I

just might not get away with it.

"Well, miss, I would enjoy nothing more than to stay here and take you

down another peg or two from your exalted position," he said, chuckling

lightly, "but I am afraid time does not permit. And might I suggest,

in the future, that you try keeping your eyes in the same direction

that your feet are going, so as to avoid future such embarrassments.

Good evening to you," he finished with a jovial smile. He bowed with

exaggerated courtesy and walked towards my father's study.

I stalked up the stairs to my room, furious that I had been thus made a

fool of; at the same time, however, I wondered who the young man was and

almost wished to see him again--after I had figured out how to return

his volley of insults, of course. I started to think of biting little

remarks I could make, should I ever happen to meet him again, and it was

with these thoughts that I felt into a deep slumber.

I woke up the next morning, and Luna told me that my father wished to

see me in his office as soon as I had eaten breakfast. I obliged, and

finished my breakfast of poached eggs, some soft rolls with orange

marmalade, oatmeal with sweet cream and kippers, without really tasting

any of it, due to my consternation that my striking Theo hadn't gone

entirely unnoticed.

My fears were needless, and my father gave me a kindly smile when I

joined him in his office. He was a rotund, jolly man, a few inches

shorter than me, with cheeks that were permanently stained a bright

red. He loved to eat, drink and make merry, and my mother was wont

to say that he cared more about his horses than he did about his family.

This was untrue; he was a caring and dutiful parent, though not such a

good judge of character.

He almost always gave me the benefit of the doubt but had a very bad

temper, and did not hesitate to raise his voice to unnecessarily high

levels at the slightest provocation. In all, he was basically a very

sweet, blustering old dear, and we were all incredibly fond of him.

I entered the room, wondering what had happened to cause this sort

of meeting, which was quite rare.

"Darien Shields, I would like to present my daughter, Serenity.

Serenity, this is Mr. Shields, your new tutor."

"P-pleased to meet you, Mr. Shields, I'm sure." I curtsied, wobbling a

little from the shock of this sudden development. It was the same young

man I had met the night before. And he was now to be my tutor? Well,

our first meeting had certainly not been one to portray me in a very

favorable light. Why the new plan? I thought they were happy with

everything at school. This could only mean trouble. I had been able to

get away with a great deal at Finch's because there were so many of us,

but with such personal instruction, I'd probably wouldn't be able to

continue carving interesting words (interesting because I often

overheard Jimmy using them in the stables and they didn't sound very c

ivilized) into my chair, and worse, I might have to actually start paying attention.

On the other hand, from the looks of him, that might not be so difficult,

a taunting little voice in my head said. I did my best to ignore the

voice, as it seemed to land me in deep water more often than not.

"The pleasure is entirely mine, Miss Tsukino, I assure you," said the

blue-eyed young man, a hint of an Irish brogue apparent in his tone,

as he bowed over my hand, winking almost imperceptibly. I was completely

taken aback. Had he really winked or was the surprise of the whole

situation playing tricks on my eyes? As he straightened, I realized by

the twinkle in his eyes that he had, and I smiled inwardly. If I had to

be burdened with private tuition, it was undoubtedly going to be rather

interesting, and this was a slight consolation as I graced up the stairs

to prepare for my first lesson.

An hour later, we sat in my father's study, alone. Leaning lazily against

the desk, he interrogated me about what I had done so far at Madame

Finch's, and watched expressionlessly as I recited a Shakespeare sonnet,

stumbling along the way a few times, wrote and translated a passage in

Latin from Virgil with my awful penmanship, sang an aria, and played a

Bach prelude. Then, because the first few times apparently hadn't been

enough, he startled me again.

"I'll wager you hated every minute of that, didn't you?" he said casually,

with a knowing smile.

Immediately infuriated by his calm, smug self-assurance, I vehemently said,

"Don't be ridiculous. What put such an idea in your head?" How was he

able to read me like that? It was uncanny and decidedly unsettling.

"Well, who wouldn't know it from the mechanical manner of the entire

performance? And then, of course, your rage at being found out is a

complete give-away. I see one of the things I'll have to teach you is

to not be quite so transparent."

I had difficulty finding my voice, becoming temporarily transfixed with a

fit of rage. Nevertheless, I managed to stop sputtering, and calmed down

a little, before letting him have it. Impudent cad.



"Transparent! How dare you? I most certainly am not and I'll thank you

to keep a civil tongue in your head." What was Father thinking when he

hired this young man? Well, he can be sure to rethink whatever it was

once I've spoken to him.

"I'm truly sorry if I've offended you," he said, suddenly becoming serious

and deferential, "I've acquired a very bad habit over the years..." his

voice trailed off and I noticed his eyes brimming with amusement.

"Yes, a very bad habit of what?" I inquired tentatively, with a faint

idea of what was coming.

"...of telling the truth, something most people don't want to hear."

He burst out laughing at the look of absolute fury apparent on my

probably crimson face.

"Relax. I should warn you from the first that I am also in the habit of

uttering sharp witticisms at every available opportunity, and seeing that

you don't seem to be able to respond to them, other than to puff up and

look angry, I shall try to go a little easier on you."

He grinned amusedly, clearly very pleased with himself, and I was thrown

off balance for a moment by the power of that smile. But only for a

fraction of a moment, mind you.

"Ha! Don't trouble yourself. I don't normally deal with such insolence

on a daily basis, so it will be refreshingly new and if you will allow me

some time, I can assure you that I will catch up very quickly," I said,

thrusting my chin upward defiantly. I wasn't sure if the 'very quickly'

part of statement was entirely true, but after all, the most important

thing was to keep up the strong front, right?

"Well, I must say, I do admire your spirit and your honesty. I shall try

not to change at least those aspects of your character, as I think I will

have to change everything else," he said, his voice tinged with mirth.

"Hmph! Don't flatter yourself, Mr. Shields, in thinking I will allow you

to change anything about me whatsoever," I replied a little haughtily,

with a tone signalling that our conversation was at an end.

"I don't recall saying you would allow me to change you; quite the

contrary, in fact, I see that it will take a great deal of time and

patience on my part to do so, but I expect a very good reward from it."

Evidently, he had not caught onto the signal, or was deliberately

ignoring it. Probably the latter, I thought ruefully.

"I hope you don't think I am overwhelmed with curiosity as to what

that 'reward' is, for I don't care," I said rather primly, "Personally,

I think, like many others, you are all show and no substance, you just

like to listen to yourself talk."

"Interesting, as I was just on the point of saying that about you, Miss

Tsukino," he said with a low chuckle that was slightly unsettling,

though I hadn't any idea why this should be so. "And as for the reward,

I think you will find out what it is soon enough; we both know you are

very curious as to what it is, there's no point in denying it."

I smiled sarcastically, and said "Touché. And it's Serena. I am hardly

old enough to properly suit 'Miss Tsukino,' or 'Serenity,' for that

matter."

"As you like it then, Serena. And Darien, here, for the same reason,"

he agreed, impatiently smoothing back a few strands of ebony hair from

where

they had fallen across his forehead.

"Lovely. Well then, Darien, let's set a few things straight from the

start, shall we? I don't want you laboring under any misconceptions

about me. I was entirely unaware that my father was planning to pull

me out of school to be taught by a private tutor. As you can probably

tell, I'm not thrilled about it, as it will only mean that I get even

more personalized nagging, berating and scolding to keep me in line and

make me into a lady," I said scornfully, slowly gaining momentum.

"Since there really is no one to take my displeasure out on besides

you, from this point onward you can try your utmost to be courteous,

gentle and unobtrusive if you want any consideration at all out of me.

And most of all, STAY OUT OF MY WAY!"

I rose from the piano bench as I said the last bit, in hopes that it

Would make my words all the more impressive, and finished my speech

with a mock-curtsy. There, now let's see what Mr. High-and-Mighty

has to say to that. Maybe I was a little too hard on him, he's

probably tongue-tied, poor bloke, bet he's never witnessed an

outburst like that before.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

"Are you quite finished, my little princess?" he drawled calmly, as a

shadow of that arrogant smile reappeared on his face. I nodded slowly;

he hadn't put any emphasis on the last few words at all, but something

told me that he didn't exactly mean them as a compliment. Actually,

they couldn't have been more insulting if he had just said what he meant-

that I was a disgustingly spoiled brat.

"Lovely. Well then, let's set a few things straight from the start,

shall we? I don't want you laboring under any misconceptions about me.

I was entirely unaware that my new client was planning on pitting me

against a pompous, self-righteous child like you. As you can probably

tell, I'm not thrilled about it, as it will only mean more headaches

and more immaturity than I care to contend with. Since there really is

no one to take my displeasure out on besides you, from this point

onward you can try your utmost to be attentive, respectful and demure

if you want any consideration at all out of me. And most of all, keep

your wits about you....that is, if you've got any."

Oh my. How does he manage to make my words more impressive when they

come out of his mouth? This one's sharp, no doubt about that. Ugh, I

can't think like that- I've never surrendered before, and I better not

start now.

"Yet another fault- absolutely no originality. Father's a darling, but

he really doesn't seem to notice when something's amiss in those he

hires- namely human intelligence."

With a velvety laugh, he walked over to me and kissed my hand once

again. As he straightened, I realized with a start just how close we

were. What was he doing?

"This will be quite a battle- actually, no, more like a full-fledged

war, seeing as we're both equally stubborn, blunt and determined to get

what we want. But make no mistake, I will take you on and I play to

win. After all, don't they always say 'All's fair in love and war?'"

he asked softly, and for some unimaginable reason, I shivered- whether

out of apprehension or excitement, I surely don't know.

Much to my distress, my shiver was not lost on him, for he cracked a

positively diabolical grin and said, "That ought to do it for

'introductions,'I suppose, unless you have another bombastic oration to present?"

I still couldn't quite speak.

"I didn't think so. Well, we start lessons tomorrow, 8 o'clock, don't

be late. You will bring your Latin, mathematics, literature and Roman

history books."

Ironically, his last statement jolted me out of my shocked silence, and

I croaked out, "I do hope you mean 8 o'clock in the evening, n'est-ce

pas?"

" Good one. No, my dear, I mean 8 o'clock in the bright, beautiful

morning. Seems as though the first thing I shall be curing you of is

unabashed laziness. Until tomorrow!" he said as he turned away from me.

Then, just as I was about to storm out fuming, he turned around and

remarked, "Oh, and by the way, as you seem to have an affinity for

French, see if you can figure out what this means; it may very well take

all night, but I'd like to know first thing in the morning what I mean

when I say, 'Laissez les jeux commencer.'"

"Oh, I know perfectly well what you mean, as the same thought occurred

to me right when my father introduced you. And for your kind information,

Mr. Darien Shields, the games have already begun!"

And with that I stomped out of the study and ran up the stairs to my room.

* * * * *

Lunch was quite uneventful; to my great displeasure, my mother had

invited Darien to eat with us, and I was informed that he would be

joining us for every meal thereafter. Father and Mother had a cheerful

conversation with their newest employee, and it was obvious that they

both liked him a great deal- no surprise there, as he was being very

charming, but somehow managing to seem very natural and easy about it.

By way of making small-talk, Mother asked what he had done and where

he had lived before he came here, but he managed to politely, and almost

imperceptibly, discourage this topic by engaging her in a discussion

about the cotillion we had attended a few nights before. I simply ate

without making eye contact with anyone and when my mother told me

sharply to stop sulking and that young ladies who looked so sullen would

never find someone to marry them, I was hard-pressed to swallow my anger

at the expression on Darien' face.

I spent my afternoon lying on the pink eiderdown quilt covering my bed,

thinking. There was clearly more to Darien than met the eye and without

actually realizing it, I wanted to know more about him. Who was he?

Where did he come from? His ordinary clothing belied his aristocratic

features, making it nearly impossible to figure out whether he was

truly of noble blood, or just a common man from one of the nearby

provinces. There was definitely a light Irish accent when he spoke,

and yet I could have sworn that there was something very Italian, or

maybe it was Spanish, about his face- where could he be from?

Some of my friends, well, rather, peers at Madame Finch's had left the

school for private tuition and from what I heard, their tutors were

obsequious young men, who eagerly presented their oh-so-slightly

embellished credentials and would do just about anything short of

jumping onto the desk and doing a jig (which, it was whispered in the

hall, one fellow actually did at the request of my friend Mina) to

insure the satisfaction of their pupils. From what I could deduce, their

attitude was something like, "Keep a smile on the little princess's face,

which in turn will keep a smile on Daddy's face, he'll fork over the

bullion, and that will keep a smile on my face! Everyone is happy,

everyone wins!"

Lucky me, of course, I had ended up with an instructor who looked

perfectly capable of making me a complete sycophant in order to please

him, rather than the other way around. I suppose in a way it was

somewhat nice that I hadn't been blessed with a blithering fool who

would stammer out "Yes miss!" and "No miss!" at my every command;

above all else, I loved a challenge, and I had a feeling that I had

finally gotten one. I just hoped fervently that I wasn't in over my

head-"I will take you on, and I play to win-" there was something

ominous and yet exciting in those words he had spoken and they baited

me into swearing that I would keep constant vigilance and never be

without a smart response to what he said or did.



Having made my resolution about how to deal with Darien, I took to

reading Ivanhoe, one of my all-time favorite novels. Adventure, bravery,

war and loyalty- the elements which comprised every book worth reading.

I had already pored over it several times, always skipping past the

romantic, sappy nonsense which I found tedious and Madame Finch's other

protégés usually found "utterly divine and so sweet." It usually took

all of my self-control to keep joining Raye in making tart remarks about

how they really ought to at least try making their incredible vapidity a

little less obvious. I had learned the hard way, namely losing my

afternoon meal as punishment for insolence, that filling my stomach had

priority over displaying my contempt for the other girls' empty heads.

I don't think I was entirely cynical and mean, though; I couldn't bear

to witness pain or sorrow, whether it was a human or animal experiencing

it and this usually became quite obvious to others within a few days of

meeting me. I had a few close friends at Madame Finch's, and we

generally kept to ourselves, but if there were only four or five, I never

noticed, for the ones I did have were the best a girl could ask for.